


just need to breathe

by displayheartcode



Series: Warmth of the Sun [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pre-Epilogue, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 10:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/displayheartcode/pseuds/displayheartcode
Summary: Falling in love again goes like this.





	just need to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s some unedited fic to make up for the lost time. 
> 
> The usual for newcomers – everything is the same, except everyone in Harry’s generation is a different gender. If you want to read different variations, some of the better ones are: ‘at sixes and sevens’ (m/m), ‘remember those walls i’ve build’ (f/f), and ‘get up now, you’re not alone all’ (trans characters). 
> 
> Part of this was inspired by reading Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo, and some of you may know which chapter I’m talking about. The title comes from A Broken Heart Still Beats sung by The Rigs.

Halley was in the bathroom connected to the boys’ side of the dormitory. Her back against the counter where the sink was – the water running hot as the dirtied and bloodied layers of her clothes started to fall to the ground to reveal bruised, burnt skin. She had her hands placed on either side of the counter, allowing – _trusting_ – her ex-boyfriend to help. She wasn’t used to this, having someone help take of her, or even the intimacy of taking care of someone in return. Those moments in particular were also rare.

Gid held a piece of terry cloth soaked in hot water and Essence of Dittany. “Where’s this one from?” he asked, his voice oddly low. He was studying the fresh burns on her arms, and he traced the outline of a large one that covered the inside of her wrist. Gently, he dabbed at the edges of it with the washcloth.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The skin was knitting together, but it wasn’t a pleasant sensation. But the pain was good, Halley told herself, pain reminded her that she was actually alive. “Curses from Gringotts,” she said. She turned her hand over to show him the blisters that covered the top of her hand. “Fiendfyre.”

His dark eyes widened, and he silently mouthed the word to himself. “How are you even alive?”

 _Green light at the edges of her vision, the scent of damp earth and the smoke from Hagrid’s clothes, people crying out for her_ – Halley shook her head to rid herself of it. She tried not to go back to the Forest. She wanted to keep all of the cracked pieces of her soul together. Hoard what’s hers and not the festering piece of Voldemort’s twisted up inside of her.

“I don’t know…I...”

He turned her hand over to touch the inside of her wrist. Her drew circles over the pulse point. “Still alive, so you better stay that way. Now where else?”

It took her another moment to find her voice. His gaze hovered over her, and she felt something warm uncoil and move in her veins. “Neck.” She tilted her head back to show the thin circle of red that went around her throat. She was certain that was going to be the last time she wore a locket. Another fragment of a soul. No wonder the Diary had felt so familiar. She wondered what else made sense to her now.

Gid rose. He drew the washcloth over the older burn, pushing her long, tangled hair out of the way with his other hand. There was hardly any space between them, she had a hand curled over his bicep for support, and he had his thigh pressed between her legs, aware that she only had an old pair of jeans and a bra on. Her body also remembered the shape of his, and how it took her away from misty forests and dark tents and into the rolling sunlight of new days.

 _Tell him to leave,_ whispered a voice inside of her. Tell him to leave because there was obviously something wrong with her now. Maybe she was too damaged, her hands too bloodied. Maybe she didn’t deserve…

His eyelashes brushed the side of her cheek when he pulled back. The warm weight of his hand on her back vanished. He dropped the washcloth into the sink and turned the faucet off. Water had already spilled over, creating puddles on the floor, most murky with blood and dirt.

 _Beg him to_ _stay,_ said a louder voice. Ask him to stay, to help wash away the nightmares, needing the reassurance of hearing his heartbeat…

“Please, Gideon.” Halley met his gaze. “You can still stay with me.” She gripped his sleeve, drawing him closer, and she took the terry cloth in her other hand.

“Feeling rather over-dressed, then.”

“That can change.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he started undressing. His robes joined hers on the floor, and so did the rest of his clothes until he was stripped down to his boxers. She remembered the similar sight of him like this whenever they’d gone swimming at the Burrow, or those few accidental peaks from the changing rooms, but that didn’t stop her breath from hitching at seeing his broad shoulders and the freckles that dotted his pale skin.

He wasn’t as injured as she was – the more obvious ones were the deep cut over his collarbone, small cuts that were most likely from shards of glass, and a heavy collection of bruises on his right side. He looked down at himself, and then there was a moment when he rose his head, they were staring at each other.

She wasn’t used to wanting, or even _allowing_ to want something. Her childhood before Hogwarts was a collection of pale memories, of watching her cousin Daisy swallow life whole while Halley had picked at the dregs. She had been told to be grateful then, that no one else would treat her with any kindness. Then came the letter and Hogwarts, and Halley was allowed –no, not allowed. The word had connotations that were like chains. She was free thanks to the letter. Free to have friends, to life a life full of choices.

And now she had a new kind of freedom. No more prophecies and an inherited war, and no having her soul tied to Tom Riddle’s.

A myriad of emotions went over Gid’s face, as if he was looking at a dream he was about to wake from.

 _Who do you see?_ Halley wanted to ask him. Was it the girl she was before the wedding – before taking the potion – the one in her pale dress and wearing a different face, unaware of what continued horrors were to come? Or was it the girl she was now, too thin with jutting bones and scarred skin, something hollow and stitched back together again _? I can have this, I can’t have this, I…_

But those thoughts vanished when his gaze drifted low. His hands were at the waistline of her jeans, the barest touch of his fingertips sent electric jolts over her skin. “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“I’m supposed to be helping you now,” she muttered. Halley raised her head, and his face was so close to hers.

She wanted…wanted _what?_ To tell him of the memories and dreams that she would hold tight around her heart during her time hunting? How she wanted to dance with him at the wedding in her own skin? That she was afraid that this was some solace her weary mind had conjured? _I don’t want this to be a dream,_ Halley thought. But the touch of Gid’s splayed fingers felt real, the way they moved and cupped the small of her back, and her arms twined around his neck.

 _I want this. I can have this._ And Halley was sitting on the bathroom counter, her fingers tangled in his hair, a thrill coursing through her and kindled the warmth she felt sparking up inside. “Here.” She gestured to her thin shoulder with her chin.

Gid kissed her there. His mouth lingered. “And here?” The pulse point of her neck. Then, lower to the bright bruise covered over her heart. Hidden by it, she knew there was a new scar.

“Yes, _yes…”_

**ºººº**

The kitchen in the Burrow was washed in early morning sunlight. Gid sat on the steps, watching the family clock tick, wondering if he stared hard enough, it could change the placements of the hands. He hadn’t been able to get back to sleep, especially since most of the funerals were now over. He had now resorted to walking around in the Burrow during odd hours, trying to pick up every memory that was embedded in the walls, but the sight of Felicity’s hand being placed at 'Dead' felt like a blow to the stomach.

 _My sister is dead. I have friends who are dead._ _My ex-girlfriend died but came back._

Gid stood and walked to the sink to make himself another cup of tea. He ran a hand over his face while the water boiled, as if the action could scrub away the memories of Tom’s voice saying that Halley was dead. Seeing Cora Creevey’s bloodied body. Tonks and Remus being perfectly still. Felicity’s face frozen in the echo of a laugh.

The tea kettle’s sharp whistle broke through the memories. Gid let out a heavy breath that he didn’t even know he was carrying. Unshed tears stung at his eyelids, but he pressed the heels of his palms against them. He had enough of crying, and Gid had done his fair share after everything with his sister’s wedding back in July, and again with the last few weeks.

He dumped a large amount of sugar into his tea, and he sat down in one of the ricketier chairs. He nearly drained the cup in one go, welcoming the way the liquid burned all the way down.

It made him miss seeing Halley appearing in the kitchen. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore by her sudden appearances, because if anyone in the house acted like a ghost, then it was her.

She looked different in the early light, reminding Gid of the treasured faded photos his mum so carefully preserved. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the new scars on her skin, and so did the way she rolled up the legs of her pajama bottoms. Her vest clung to her sides, showing how thin the last few months had made her. She looked more like a faded dream, or even a ghost, Gid couldn’t tell anymore, but the intangibility that draped over her scared him. As if she could one day slip away again, and he would never find her.

“There’s tea in the kettle,” he rasped.

“You weren’t in your room,” she said, ignoring this. She sat down next to him.

 _You were looking for me?_ Gid blinked. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep. Were you having the same problem?”

Halley’s shoulders slumped.

“What was it about this time?” he asked. He pushed his empty cup from one hand and to the other, the noise helping to fill the empty spaces between them. “And why not Rory and Hector?”

“Because you understand it differently. You know what it’s like to suddenly feel so fragile.”

Gid looked up from making his cup spin in circles. “You died. I think that would anyone feel fragile.” There was a long pause, and he hated how small his voice sounded when it came out. “Did dying hurt?”

It was almost an unbelievable scenario: In the growing light of day, he was talking over lukewarm tea about what dying was like with someone who had actually experienced it.

Halley shifted in her seat. She rolled her shoulders. The gestures changed her posture, making her appear ages older. “It’s…it’s like suddenly falling asleep after having a long day, and now I don’t know how living should feel.” The expression faded as a new one replaced it. She closed her eyes. “My turn, what was it like for you the summer after being possessed?” The tangibility she had gained vanished, and the paleness in her face brought his mind back to his summer in Egypt.

“Like waking up from a nightmare,” Gid decided. “but it’s one of those really bad ones that still make you scared, even when you wake up and know it’s over.” He made the cup spin again. “He took over my body, but I have to remember that I have control over it. It’s my body again. I can decide what I want to do with it.” Another pause. “I would’ve known if you were possessed.”

Halley’s eyes fluttered open, her expression brooding. “I know, but I’m questioning everything I’ve done. I need to know it’s me who made those decisions. Not him.”

He glanced sideways at her, sheepish with his cheeks turning red. “Listen, I don’t regret it, but I’ve always thought our first would be, like, fumbling our way in the locker rooms…” He needed more tea for this mess he was causing, and he could feel the weight of his words becoming heavier _. But when I woke up later in bed, you weren’t there_ … _I hear you crying out from your nightmares and I feel so helpless…_

“Like my birthday?” A smile flickered to life over her face, and the rare sight of it dispersed his jumbled thoughts.

Gid blew out a long breath. “Yeah, I really wasn’t being subtle.”

Halley drew her knees up to her chin. “I used to think any kind of future would be unreachable, but I don’t know anymore.” Something strange crossed over her face, as if she was recalling something unpleasant. “What do people do with their futures?”

**ºººº**

Scarlet steam billowed around them on the platform. Tearful friends and family hugged their loved ones close, afraid to let them go back to school.

They were no different from the people around them.

Halley said, “Don’t get too bored without us.”

“I won’t be that bored,” Hector scoffed. “I am perfectly capable of causing my own brand of trouble, thank you very much.”  Already dressed in his new robes, the collar of it was wet from Molly’s earlier tearful hug.

“And he has me,” Gid added, trying to escape Rory’s tight hug. “As long as Rory doesn’t strangle me first!”

“Watch it,” she warned, letting him go. “You’re the last of the Weasleys at Hogwarts.”  And her expression shifted to something more serious as her gaze also went to Hector. “If it feels like either of you can’t stay, just tell me and I’ll sneak you out.”

“I think McGonagall might find it troubling if students start disappearing,” said Hector. Halley read the way Hector and Rory were looking at each other, and stepped out of the way and leaned against one of the stone columns when Hector tugged on Rory’s sleeve, leading her away to have a more private conversation in the train station.

“Would you be her partner-in-crime?” Gid asked.

“You know, I think it would put that Auror training in good use. That is, if you want me to break you out.”

“You could also break in,” he suggested, sliding up next to her. “Sneak in through the impenetrable wards in the dead of night just to visit.” His hand hovered near hers, and he spoke in a softer voice, almost blending with the low buzzing of the privacy charms Halley had cast. “Anytime, no questions asked. I’ll understand.”

Halley slid her fingers through his. “I know.”

**ºººº**

“This might become a habit,” she muttered, reclining in the mess of sheets and blankets on his four-poster bed. She peered through her eyelashes, noticing the way the autumn sunlight glinted off Gid’s hair.

“Maybe even a welcoming one,” he said. He joined her on the bed and kicked his shoes off. “Hi, how’s the real world?”

“Exhausting,” answered Halley.

“I’ve heard rumors of that,” he said solemnly. “The endless piles of official paperwork, paying taxes, cleaning your flat of spiders…”

“You _did_ get Rory’s letter.” She pushed her hair out of her face, sighing miserably at the memory of walking into her flat that she now shared with Rory. There had been so many, and in Rory’s opinion, just bidding their time to scurry out of the shadows. “You’ll be happy to know we’ve gotten rid of the last of the scorch marks.” She curled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. “Is it wrong I want to take that approach with everything?”

“Sorry. Pyromania is trademarked by us Weasleys, and Kingsley might be offended if you set some of Wizengamot on fire.” Gid’s laughter quickly sobered. “It’s that bad?”

 _“Politics.”_ The way she said it, Halley hoped it got the meaning across.

“Rough.” He brushed a light kiss over her forehead. He crooked two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up. “Want me to send anonymous cursed envelopes?”

“Depends on the curse.” She allowed herself to smile, letting some of the earlier tension to leave, banishing the images that her imagination conjured about the rest of the trials. “Can I stay here for a bit?”

“You already know the answer.”

**ºººº**

The party continued, and they slipped away.

“I’ve missed these beds,” said Halley happily once reaching the dorm room. She had her hands stacked behind her head, superstitiously studying the ceiling of his four-poster bed. “Do you think people’ll mind if I drop out of the Auror program and go back to Hogwarts only for their beds?” she joked.

Gid drew the scarlet curtain around them with a flick of his wrist. The deafening sounds of the party echoed from below in the Common Room, and the built-in heating charms were keeping away the worst of the November chill. “They might think you’re shameless because of how often you visit,” he said. He then collapsed next to her on the bed, also sighing in relief that his sore muscles could finally have a break, but his adrenaline was still singing from winning the match. “But seeing as how I could force you to co-captain with me…”

“Judging by what I saw today, I think you should be fine.”

 _“Should?”_ Gid gasped. He rolled to his side. You’re my former captain, what you _should_ have is better faith in me.”

They fell into a strange silence, but their familiar banter had made his heart beat faster.

 _How are you?_ No, that was too much of a standard question. Everyone was asking her that. _I’ve missed you every day_ was likely too much. _It feels like I’m falling headfirst into something new, and all I want to do is hold onto you._ Now that was too much everything, but he remembered every letter that he wrote to her since the school year had started. He remembered the letters she wrote back, how it allowed him to see the her, the parts that were growing and becoming healthy again. And every time he saw in her person, there was visible proof of it.

“Thanks for letting me…” Halley made a vague motion with her hands, color flooding her cheeks. Her presence had always thrilled her former housemates, but it had also meant a horde of people asking her questions and wanting to know everything about what her life was like now. What was it like being an Auror? Was it true she had to trek in the abandoned underground tunnels in London to find one of the Lestrange brothers? More importantly, was she dating anyone? That one in particular was asked a lot.

Though hearing that one made Gid feel unusually grumpy. _Witch Weekly_ and the gossip columns in _The Daily Prophe_ t always had their rumors, but none of it was true – and they weren’t even dating so why should he care so much? He and Halley weren’t dating anymore, and the one time they had sex together was because they had desperately missed each other, and they couldn’t be together now because they had talked about the difficulties of her going through training and him in school, and, of course, she needed the space to heal and grieve in her own time… and now all Gid could think about was the way her hips slid against his, legs wrapped around his waist as he sank to the floor with her… _This was bad._ He knew in his heart he was steps away from writing bad poetry about her green eyes and her soft mouth he was currently staring at.

And Halley noticed. She had rolled to her side, facing him and staring just as intensely back. A corner of her mouth twitched. He’d seen that look when they would break off an OWLS study session for something more fun, or when the Snitch was just in view of a perfect catch. “What are you thinking about?”

 _You_ . _Always you_. “Oh, nothing,” he said, “Just how this famous Auror is hiding from school children. Such bravery.”

“Hey!” She gave his ankle a light kick. “You’re getting some of the blame, Weasley. I’ve heard from Hector how you’re the one who’s been singing my praises all over school! “

There was the sudden loud sound of someone banging the door open, and voices followed it, as did the way Rory was saying Hector’s name in a breathless way.

Halley immediately went for her wand, ready to cast the needed spells non-verbally.  “Leave it to them to always barge in like this,” she muttered as she traced the tip of her wand in the air.

Gid covered his face with a pillow and groaned.

**ºººº**

_It’s just one kiss._

Moving quick, Halley rose on her toes and placed one on the corner of his mouth, ignoring the sounds of the people around them. She distinctly heard Georgia whooping about the success of the charmed mistletoe. There were scattered bursts of laughter from their friends.

“Happy Christmas,” she said in a rush, awkwardly patting Gid’s chest. She stumbled backwards over the warped floorboards of the back room in the Leaky Cauldron. _See you when I’m no longer ashamed to show my face around you._

He made a scathing sound. “Halley!”

“And have a happy new year!” she added. She stumbled again, this time as if her foot collided with a wall. She looked up at the mistletoe, and saw how the berries were still glowing. That measly peck hadn’t ended the charm. _Fine_. It’ll have to be another kiss, then.

Wasting no time, Halley yanked on the collar of his Christmas jumper, but he was kissing her first.

Gid's wasn't light like hers had been. It was deep, more involved for the both of them. His mouth felt warm and firm against hers. He had kissed her like this before: by the lake, her seventeenth birthday, and after the Battle of Hogwarts. But this one quickly eclipsed into something else entirely that caused Halley to grab fistfuls of his shirt and taste the cider he had been drinking earlier. She could feel his palms gliding over her back, pulling her in closer so that she lined up against him. She let go of his shirt and tangled her hands in his soft hair, feeling the imprint of his body being pressed against hers. It burned away everything else, causing the holiday party to vanish and the world to stop.

He was still holding her when the kiss ended, and stroking the space between her shoulder blades with his thumb, looking at her in such a soft way that made her heart beat faster. She was either going to melt or combust on the spot.

“Gideon?”

“Yeah,” he said thickly.  “I like you a lot.”

 


End file.
